And Darkness Falls
by Jezunya
Summary: Tragedy, oneshot. Ron is slowly coming to grips with the events surrounding Voldemort's death and realizing things he couldn't, or wouldn't, see before. [DG, Ron's pov]


Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_ or any of its characters or events. This is just one possible ending to the series...

A/N: Bwah, sorry about this. I don't usually do tragedy – I'm a happy ending kinda girl – but this snuck up on me and refused to leave. ;o; Anyway, Ron's pov, and present tense for some odd reason... Draco/Ginny, but not really... TT.TT

"**And Darkness Falls"  
A Round-About One-shot by Jezunya**

The Dark Lord is dead.

I've never been able to say his name before, but I think I will now. Voldemort. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You-Know-Who. Tom Riddle.

That last one sends a shiver down my spine.

I always thought Harry would be the one to kill him. We all did, especially after that Prophecy nonsense in our fifth year. Well, we didn't find out about it during fifth year, but Harry told us eventually. He was supposed to kill Voldemort – and it was utter nonsense.

After all, what is Fate, compared with anger, hate, revenge? And, dare I say, love?

I think I do dare to say it, as I stand here and stare at him where he's kneeling on the ground in front of me.

Him who? Draco Malfoy. He's an only child, his birthday's in July, and he has the Dark Mark – maybe not what you'd usually call being 'marked as his equal', but he's marked and it seems it was good enough for the Prophecy. Apparently, his mother even refused three times before her husband won out and joined the Death Eaters. Who knew, huh?

_I_ should have been the one to kill him – Voldemort, not Malfoy, that is. It should have been me, or Harry, or Hermione. Even Lupin or McGonagall would have made sense.

But no. While we – we, the _good guys_ – stood and stared in shock, Draco Malfoy was the one to let out a gut-wrenching scream and Avada the Dark Lord he was supposedly so loyal to. Just up and killed him without a second thought.

We'd already managed to destroy his Horcruxes, so he's really dead this time. Dead, dead, dead. For good.

The Death Eaters fought to the death after that. No pun intended. McGonagall and Lupin and the rest of the Order along with Harry and Hermione took care of them.

I didn't fight. I was too numb.

He didn't fight either. Malfoy, I mean. He just sat there the whole time, not moving, just staring. It was a miracle none of the Death Eaters killed him.

I just noticed that he's holding her hand. He's been holding it the whole time, I realize now. I guess the rumors were true after all – they really were together.

I didn't believe them. Not during school, and not afterwards, even when she left home to live on her own and was seeing some mysterious boyfriend who always had an excuse for not meeting any of her family. It was him all along.

I think she tried to tell me several times. She must've known I'd take the news the hardest, even worse than Harry, who still had a thing for her after all these years. But I'd always manage to say something idiotic and change the subject and she would let me. She wanted to be able to tell, I think, but she must've been dreading the storm I'd cause. I'd have been furious. I can't be furious now. Not with her lying on the ground like that.

Not with him staring down at her like his world's come to an end.

I never thought a Slytherin, a Death Eater, a Malfoy could be capable of love, least of all the Amazing Bouncing Ferret who made my school career miserable for all those years. But I don't know what else to call it now with him staring down at her like that.

I wouldn't have believed her even if she had told me. Back in school, any time in the last few years, even if she'd told me just yesterday, I wouldn't have believed it was possible. He was using her, he was trying to get to Harry through her, or to me, or to our parents, or to the rest of the Order. He was only going to hurt her. He couldn't love her. He wasn't capable of it.

I wouldn't have believed her. I would have said all that and more if she'd ever told me. Maybe she knew I would, and that's why she never told me. Maybe she was afraid it was true, that I was right, and hearing it would only solidify her own fears. Maybe... But then again, maybe not.

I think he's crying. I can't see his face very well, since his back is mostly to me, but I think there are tears in his eyes. Harry said he once saw Malfoy cry. Another thing I didn't think was possible.

Maybe she doubted him and his intentions, but I don't think so. If I, the dense over-protective brother, can see that he loves her this much, then she must have seen it too. There was no way she didn't, really. And she must have loved him, too, to take so much grief from the rest of us and yet still stick with him. Most guys she wouldn't think were worth it. She did that with some of her boyfriends back in school – she'd stay with them for a little while, just to get on my or Fred and George's nerves, but then she'd dump them if we really didn't like them and we really bugged her about it. But not this one. Not Malfoy. Figures.

You'd think the sun would be rising about now. We won the battle, and the War. Evil's been vanquished and good has won. That's how it works in story-books – the good guys win the battle and save the world, and the sun rises over them, triumphant.

I guess we don't live in a story-book.

We fought them in the graveyard in front of the old Riddle manor. It was Voldemort's ancestral home and where he was reborn in our fourth year of school. How fitting that he should die here as well.

The battle started in the afternoon. There were no storm clouds, no clashes of lightning. Just summer coming to a close with all its fluffy clouds and warm breezes. Nothing to show that the world was about to change forever.

That was several hours ago.

We fought for maybe an hour, and then he lashed out at her. Then Malfoy killed him, and the battle started in earnest. It lasted for a few more hours, and now it's over. And I can't tear my eyes away from the two of them, him sitting on his heels, holding her hand between his larger, paler ones, and she lying flat on her back, limp, just the way she fell.

In a fairy-tale, we would have fought all through the night and won the day with the break of dawn. In a fairy-tale, no one would have died. The good guys would have all made it through, and true love would have won out. Even if it's true love between people who should have been enemies. I guess it's sort of Romeo and Juliet love, but it still should have worked out in the end. This just shows we don't live in a fairy-tale.

But I guess I already covered that.

Malfoy is crying now, without a doubt. I think I am too, but I can't be sure. No, I must be crying. He's looked up at me, and he's obviously waiting for me to tell him to get away from her. But his look has changed now. Something's surprised him. Then he just turns back to her. I must be crying. He wouldn't have understood that I want him to stay right there with her unless I was.

Dawn isn't coming, and I have my doubts that it ever will, now.

The Dark Lord is dead, but so is my sister. I don't think there can even be a dawn now.

Behind me, almost as proof, the sun sets, and darkness falls over us all.

8-888-8

Review please!


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